Harry No 5 and the Philosopher's Stone
by Silverfox1
Summary: A Harry Potter AU in which I just follow the original books with one little change: The story is now set in the future and it is no longer customary for parents to raise their children themselves. Of course that means that the parents' influences on their children are missing leading to some characters being quite different.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: This is an AU set in a future where children are ... not raised by their parents. I'm just going over the first Harry Potter book chapter by chapter, not making up an entirely new plot, though the consequences are much bigger than I thought when I first had the idea.

Harry No. 5 and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 1: The Boy who Lived

Mr. Vernon Dursley and Mrs. Petunia Dursley-Evans were a completely normal couple. They lived in a normal two-room flat in the employees' block of the Grunnings company area on the outskirts of London.

Mr Dursley spent most of his time working as Director of the Grunnings drill company, and Mrs. Dursley-Evans was the secretary of one of the minor department-heads under him. In the evenings she liked to entertain her husband by recounting all the office gossip that other people didn't mention in the hearing of the top management.

She was the only family Mr. Dursley had as his parents had declined the offer to meet him when he'd turned 16. Petunia herself however had met with her mother in her younger days and even had a younger sister who occasionally wrote to them.

Once they had even met up with Lily Potter-Evans and her husband James Potter. It had not gone well, though. Mr. Potter was ... Well, Vernon Dursley wanted nothing to do with the likes of him. He knew however that Petunia enjoyed the feeling of connection with her dead parents that her sister represented and so Vernon willingly signed the occasional letter or postcard to add his greetings to hers as long as he did not have to meet the Potters again.

Besides Lily Potter-Evans their family also included their one year old son Dudley who was being raised in one of the best nursery institutes in the country.

If Vernon was very exact it also included their nephew, the son of Lily and James Potter. Neither he nor Petunia really considered him their kin, though. In fact, Vernon couldn't even remember the child's first name. Not that it mattered as the boy had been born the same year as Dudley and was far from reaching an age to be able to bother his relatives.

If you didn't consider the Potters there was nothing at all unusual about Vernon's life and that was exactly how Vernon wanted it. And thus the overcast Thursday morning on which our story begins seemed perfectly ordinary when Vernon and Petunia got up, dressed and walked down to the company restaurant for breakfast.

During the meal they discussed drills and the company as they did every morning. Then Vernon kissed Petunia on the cheek and went to work. He rode the elevator up to his office on the ninth floor and spent a perfectly ordinary morning shouting at people and reducing his secretary to tears.

He missed lunch break due to an online conference with an oversees branch office and therefore decided to get some buns from the bakery across the street to tide him over until dinner. Once outside he couldn't help noticing a group of strangely dressed people standing on the side-walk and whispering excitedly. Vernon glared at their colourful robes angrily.

Why weren't they at work being productive? They couldn't be walking advertisements for a new holomovie as there was no inscription with the title anywhere in sight.

Perhaps they were on lunch break just like himself? Yes, they were probably actors or extras for a holomovie that was being shot somewhere nearby.

On the way back to his office he overheard a snatch of their conversation, though.

"Potter and Evans' little boy. Harry I think his name was?"

Vernon raced back up into his office, laid his buns on his desk and was just about to click Petunia's IM name when it occurred to him that neither Potter nor Evans was an at all unusual name. This Harry might be anyone's child, and even if they had been talking about his nephew it was the problem of the staff of whatever nursery institute he'd been placed in, and perhaps that of his parents. There was no reason to bother Petunia with it, though. It would only bring the existence of their unsavoury relatives to the attention of her gossip-mongering co-workers. No, they had nothing to do with it after all.

That evening when he came home after his usual two hours of overtime, Petunia flew right at him the moment he stepped through the door.

"Oh Vernon!" she exclaimed evidently very distressed. "Somebody attacked a nursery institute! It was destroyed! Completely destroyed!"

"Attacked a nursery institute?" Vernon could hardly believe it. "But who would do such a thing? Petunia, it ... it wasn't ..."

"What? Oh no, it was somewhere in Scotland. Our Dudley was nowhere near it. And they managed to save all the children in time, anyway. But several of the staff were killed and the whole building destroyed, and of course the terrorists died, too."

"Terrorists? But why would terrorists attack a nursery institute?"

"Oh, why do terrorists attack anything? They are simply awful people. Anti-feminists, they assume," Petunia explained. "You know, those madmen who want to force women back into the slavery of raising children and bar them from the freedom of doing productive work for their employers."

Vernon snorted. "I always suspected that their claims that they're doing it all out of love for children and all that rot of for the good of the little ones were just sorry excuses to cause a lot of havoc."

"Why, of course they are, when everybody knows that institutional upbringing by experts is the best and most economic solution for them as well as for the mothers and their employers. Though sometimes ..."

"Sometimes?" Vernon prompted.

"Well, sometimes I do wish I could have our little Dudley with me, could see him, hold him, watch him grow ..."

"Nonsense Petunia! Who's put such outlandish ideas into your head? Surely you don't want to be enslaved!"

Petunia laughed. "Of course not. I dare say I'd be tired of it and want to escape after just a few minutes of it, if I ever actually got the chance. It's probably just that I'm curious what he looks like. I'd like to know how children act and develop."

"Why Petunia, we'll get another development report and photo of him on his next birthday," Vernon reminded her. "Then we'll be able to see."

And with that the topic was finished for them ... until the next morning when Petunia received a letter from one Albus Dumbledore that contained a very strange request.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Meet Harry ... and his friends.

Harry No. 5 and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 2: The Vanishing Glass

"We're going to the zoo! We're going to the zoo!" Harry and his best friend Malcolm chanted as they hopped excitedly down the corridor. "We're going to th ... umph!"

Harry collided with something big and hard at the corner, bounced off and fell on his behind. His glasses slid down his nose and he had to right them before he recognised the item as another of his dorm mates.

"Sorry Dudley!" He apologised. "I should look where I'm going. But we're going to the zoo!"

"Yeah," said Dudley grinning widely. "We're going to the zoo!"

"Got to put on our shoes." Malcolm reminded them.

"Yeah, cause we're going to the zoo! We're going to the zoo!" Dudley and his best friend Pierce joined them in hopping and chanting the rest of the way to the wardrobe.

The trip to the zoo was an unusual treat, a last special event for them to share before they left the primary institute behind and went on to whichever secondary institutes their parents had chosen for them to continue their educations in.

Parting with friends and dorm mates that you'd lived with for six years was always hard and so the teachers arranged a special trip for the leaving class to take away some pleasant last memories of time spent together.

And so Harry and the others were soon sitting in an overfilled hover bus still chanting happily.

"Look," Pierce said suddenly. "There's a second bus."

Harry pressed his nose against the window pane. "It's the girls. The girls are going to the zoo, too!"

"That's a rhyme," Dudley said. "Zoo, too. Just like the poems in English."

"You're a poet, Harry," Malcolm declared.

"But I didn't do it on purpose," Harry reminded them. "I think poets do it on purpose."

"Hey, isn't that the one that won the institute spelling competition twice?" Malcolm pointed at a bushy-haired girl that was just getting on the bus.

"Hermione," Harry remembered. "Without a number."

"So there's only one Hermione in the whole institute?" Pierce asked amazed.

Pierce was really Pierce number 9, which, Harry thought, really wasn't bad at all. He himself was Harry number 28 and really hoped for a lower number at his secondary institute.

"Unique and smart," Dudley said longingly. "I want to be smart, too."

"Not a chance, pal," Malcolm shook his head. "The teacher says you're really slow."

"But you're tall," Harry added so Dudley's feelings wouldn't be hurt too much. "I think you're the tallest boy at the institute. The tallest Dudley for sure."

"Yeah, I should be Dudley number 1!"

The zoo was great. They each got an icecream on the way in and then they were sorted into groups and each group got a guide that led them around and told them all sorts of exciting things about animals.

"This is a boa constrictor," the guide explained. "The biggest snake in the world. They are not poisonous, but nevertheless dangerous. They can strangle you, you see ..."

Harry stepped close to the glass to get a good look at the snake. He liked snakes a lot. They were such cool animals.

"Hi, boa constrictor," he said. "You're very pretty."

The snake that had been lying curled up in a corner suddenly raised his head to look at him.

"Thank you, boy," he said loud and clearly.

"Uuuuh, he's moving!"

There was a sudden wild pushing and shoving as some children shrank back while others pushed forward eager to see.

Harry was squashed against the glass and for one panicked moment thought that he'd be squeezed to death by the weight of the children behind him, but then there was a bright flash and he toppled forward, the glass suddenly gone. The snake's strong, warm, rough-scaled body wrapped itself around him and let him slide gently to the ground.

"Got you," the snake said. "And thanks!"

And then he slid away.

"Bye!" Harry called after him.

Then he looked around. He, Dudley and Pierce were sitting in the snake's habitat, the rest of their group standing in front of it staring at them wide-eyed.

"Wow Harry," Duddley said finally. "What did you do this time?"

"I didn't do anything," Harry protested. "I was just looking at the snake."

"And hissing at him," Pierce added.

"Talking to him," Harry corrected. "That's not forbidden. I didn't do anything wrong."

Strange things like this tended to happen around Harry and his dorm mates were quite convinced that he caused them somehow even though that wasn't at all possible and their teacher had often told them so.

To help them get over their fright the group got another round of icecreams, this time for free from the zoo director who kept mumbling "But where did the glass go?" when he wasn't apologising to the institute staff.

All in all it was a good and memorable trip, Harry decided on the way back.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Oh wait, there's nobody to hide Harry's letters from him now ... Nor would it make sense for Hogwarts to send them and risk the whole institute learning about the wizarding world! So how to do this? Read and find out.

Harry No. 5 and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 3: Letters from Nobody

"Harry number 28! Harry number 28, please report to the headmaster's office!" the voice rang out through the institutes's loud-speaker system.

"Ooh!" made Harry. "But I didn't even do anything!"

"It's probably just your orientation meeting," the teacher reassured him. "You will all have them over the next week or so. You go to the headmaster's office and he tells you what secondary institute you're to be transferred to. That's something you need to know so you can tell your friends where they can write to you."

Harry's face lit up. "Oh yes!"

He didn't want to lose Malcolm forever if they were sent to different places.

"Go on," the teacher said. "Pack up and go to your meeting."

Harry nodded eagerly, hastily closed his notebook and stuffed it into his desk drawer.

"All done!"

The corridors were unusually silent and empty and Harry reached the office much faster than he could have during a break. He knocked on the door, waited until he heard the word "Enter" and then opened it and entered the headmaster's waiting room.

"Harry number 28 reporting," he told the headmaster's secretary. "I've been called."

She nodded and pressed a button on her communication device.

"Harry number 28 for you, Sir. You know, he's that one."

"Ah yes," the headmaster's voice answered. "Excellent. Send him right through."

Harry wondered what 'one' he was. His number was 28 after all. But there was no time to ask as the secretary waved him on to the next door.

"Good morning, headmaster," Harry said as he entered.

"Good morning," the headmaster answered and indicated a chair. "So you are Harry."

"Yes Sir, I'm a Harry." Harry nodded.

"Well Harry, I have had a look at your reports and saw that you are a good and diligent student."

Harry beamed. "Thank you, Sir."

"And I am sure that you would do well in any secondary institute, but you see, there is a little problem."

"A problem, Sir?" Harry asked worriedly. He'd been looking forward to going to his secondary institute and didn't want to be left behind attending the primary institute for another year while all his friends left.

"Oh, it's nothing to worry about," the headmaster assured him. "We can fix it quickly. I need you to make a decision, though, and I know that that is quite a lot to ask of an eleven-year-old."

"What decision, Sir?" Harry asked. So far the only decisions he'd had to make in his life had been on what answers to give on a test if he hadn't been sure which ones were correct.

"I think I should explain all the background to you first so you'll know what to base your decision on."

Harry nodded.

"You see, when your parents were little children just like you, they went to Hogwarts Secondary Institute."

Harry didn't think he was quite that little a child. He was eleven and about to go on to a secondary institute, after all. But one ought not to contradict an adult, especially not such an important adult as the headmaster.

So all he said was: "That's a funny name."

"Yes, but I assure you it is a very good and exclusive secondary institute. Very few students are invited to go there. But your parents did, and when you were born, they reserved a place for you right away."

Harry nodded again. "So I am going to Hogwarts Secondary Institute?"

"Well, you might go there. They did reserve a place for you, but listen to all I have to tell you before you decide to accept it."

Accept it? One was sent to a secondary institute, one didn't accept or reject it.

"You see, about a year later something terrible happened. The nursery institute where they had placed you was attacked by very bad people and when your parents heard of that they rushed there to protect you and the other children and were killed."

Harry listened with wide frightened eyes. His parents ... were dead?

"They must have been very brave," the headmaster assured him. "You can be very proud of them."

Once again Harry nodded, but he didn't feel proud. Instead there was a very strange pain in his throat and his chest when he realised that his parents were gone and he would never get the chance to meet them.

Of course not all parents chose to meet their children and not all children chose to meet their parents, but he had always thought that he would like to know them if they agreed and now he knew that they'd never be asked.

"So after they died, your aunt and uncle ... Your aunt, that is the sister of your mother, a girl that had the same parents as your mother did. And your uncle is the husband of your aunt."

Harry nodded again to show that he understood.

"So your aunt and uncle are your closest family now, and they were afraid that a nursery institute that had already been attacked once was not a safe place for you. They also have a little son, just like you, and they decided to put you in the same institutes they had chosen for their own little boy. That boy would be called your cousin."

Harry once again nodded.

"Now when your uncle was a little boy just like you, he went to Smeltings Secondary Institute. That is a very good institute, too, and your uncle has reserved a place for you there, just like he did for his own son, your cousin. Your aunt and uncle would very much like for you to go to Smeltings Institute. But Hogwarts Institute is even more exclusive and your parents probably wanted you to go there just as much. Right now both institutes are expecting us to send you to them and I will have to tell one of them no, even though they are both good. So this is what I'm asking you to decide: Will you go to the institute your parents chose or the one your aunt and uncle chose?"

Harry thought about it. He would never get to meet his parents.

"When I'm sixteen," he said finally. "Will I be asked whether I want to meet my ... aunt and ... uncle, or won't I be asked at all?"

"Why of course you will be asked!" the headmaster exclaimed. "I cannot promise you that they will choose to meet you, though."

"But I will be asked even if I go to Hogwarts Institute?"

"Yes," the headmaster confirmed. "What institute you're in doesn't make a difference."

"Then I want to do what my parents wanted. Cause I'll never meet them, you see."

"Of course. I will write to Smeltings Institute that there was a mistake then and you will go to Hogwarts."

Harry nodded one last time, thanked the headmaster and returned to his classroom.

"I am going to Hogwarts Secondary Institute," he announced to the whole class. "So now you can all write to me."

"Adam number 7!" announced the loud-speaker system. "Adam number 7, please report to the headmaster's office!"


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Hm ... you can't just take a child shopping for magical items and then send him back to an institute full of Muggles where he shares a dorm with several curious Muggle children and expect nobody to find out about your magic school, so how to get in Diagon Alley?

Harry No. 5 and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 4: The Keeper of the Keys

"Hermione, Harry number 28 and Justin number 9, please report to the main gate! Hermione, Harry number 28 and Justin number 9!"

"Oooh, you must be going to a really good secondary institute!" Malcolm said. "You're going with Hermione!"

"She's smart," Dudley agreed.

"It's called Hogwarts Secondary Institute," Harry told them one last time. "My parents chose it for me, because they went there, too. Don't forget to write."

All the boys still remaining in the dorm nodded.

"I'm going to Stonewall Secondary Institute," Malcolm added.

"And we're going to Smeltings Secondary Institute," Dudley said putting his arm around Pierce. "We're so lucky we get to stay together."

He still seemed to be amazed by that even though they'd known it for a week now.

"Good luck, Harry!" Pierce said.

"Yes, good luck, Harry!" the others chorused.

"Good luck, boys," Harry wished them as well. Then he picked up his suitcase and walked out of his dorm for the very last time. "I'll never forget you!"

He had a photo album and a yearbook full of pictures to remember them by and of course he would write to them for the rest of his life, but it still felt strange that all the people he knew were about to disappear from his life. Of course Hermione and Justin number 9 were going with him, but he only knew Hermione by sight and wasn't sure who Justin was. Surely he'd seen him around, but he must be from a different dorm and class. "And we'll all meet up when we're grown up!"

"Yes, see you then, Harry!"

Other boys called good-byes out of every dorm he passed on his way to the main gate, some he knew by name and others barely by sight. Harry returned all their greetings as a matter of course, though.

There were even more children hanging around the gate itself, younger students who'd come to see the hoverbusses and cars from the secondary institutes arrive and the oldest students leave. Harry had done the same every year he'd been here and wasn't at all surprised to see them. There'd be even more children here tomorrow when the whole school would gather to welcome the new-arrivals from the nursery institutes. Harry felt a little stab in his heart at the thought that he would not be there to cheer with the rest, but he knew that the oldest children had to leave first to make room in the dorms for the little ones to move into and an exciting new life was awaiting him.

"Harry number 28 reporting," he said to the porter. "I've been called for."

"And you took your time, too," the porter snapped and slammed a parcel of folded up white fabric against Harry's chest. "Go in there and take off all your clothes except your underpants. Fold them up neatly and leave them on the bench. Then put these on. Don't forget to take the binder with you when you leave and give it to the guide from your new institute."

"Yes Mam," Harry nodded obediently and went into the changing room.

He'd just finished folding up his old uniform when the door opened again and another boy walked in.

"Hi, I'm Justin number nine ... er ... a Justin now. I'm a Justin."

"Hi, Justin. I'm a Harry," Harry replied politely and started to unfold his white bundle.

It turned out to contain simple white trousers, a plain white t-shirt and a binder with the institutes's crest on it.

"I wonder what they put in those," Justin commented once he too had finished changing.

"Names and parents and former institutes?" Harry suggested on the way back out. "And grades maybe?"

"And medical history, psychological assessment results, behaviour reports," Hermione added. Apparently she'd been waiting for them for a while and had overheard the end of the conversation.

"Hi, Hermione," Harry greeted her. "I'm a Harry."

"Hi, Harry," Hermione returned. "You know me?"

Harry nodded. "You won the spelling competition."

"Ah yes. And what's your name?"

"I'm a Justin."

The porter led them to a disappointingly small and unimpressive hovercar. Of course there was no need for a huge bus when picking up only three students.

The man inside however turned out to be very impressive indeed.

"That," the porter said pointing at the giant. "Is Mr. Hagrid from Hogwarts secondary institute. Don't forget to give him your binders."

And then she walked away back in the direction of the wardrobe, most likely to collect their former clothes to have them washed and the name tags removed.

"Hi, Mr. Hagrid," Harry said and the other two children quickly followed his example.

"Hello Harry," the man replied with a fond smile. "And hello to both of you as well."

The smile reassured them. Mr. Hagrid might be big and strong, but he didn't seem the kind of nurse who'd spank a boy, or pull him along by the ear unless he really deserved it.

"How do you know I'm Harry?" Harry asked holding his binder out to Mr. Hagrid.

"Why, I recognised your scar, of course," Mr. Hagrid said accepting the binder and putting it into his huge coat-pocket even though Harry could have sworn that it was just a bit too wide to fit in there.

"You've seen me before?" Harry asked astonished.

"Why yes. Took you to that Muggle nursery myself after You-Know-Who's attack on the Magical Nursery Institute. And there you were with that odd scar right where he struck you."

"Who?" Hermione asked rather forwardly, but Mr. Hagrid had just put away the other two binders and was too busy rummaging in another pocket to reply.

"Now, let me see," he mumbled. "Let me see ... Ah yes, here it is," and he pulled out a strangely yellow, rolled up piece of paper.

He unrolled it, looked at it and then declared happily: "Yes, this is it. Harry, at Hogwarts institute you will be Harry number 5.

"Only number 5!" Harry had been hoping for a lower number, but this was too good to be true.

"Don't be stupid," Hermione snapped. "Of course they'll have more Harries than that. It probably just happens that their number five left yesterday, so you get his old number. The numbers would all be much higher if they weren't re-used. Right?"

"Er ... right," Hagrid confirmed in a tone that suggested that he either didn't know himself or hadn't really been listening to Hermione at all. "Now, you must be Hermione. You will be Hermione number 2 from now on, and you will be Justin number 3."

They had another Hermione! Harry almost laughed at Hermione's shocked face, but of course he knew that one wasn't supposed to laugh at people in front of a nurse or teacher. It was very bad and Harry didn't want to be a bad boy.

"Welcome to Hogwarts institute for Witches and Wizards," Hagrid added as if as an afterthought.

"Witches and Wizards?" Harry asked.

"Aren't witches bad?" Justin added.

"Why no!" Mr. Hagrid exclaimed. "They are just women - or girls - who can do magic. Just like you three. But do get in the car and I will tell you all about it while it drives us to Diagon Alley."

And so they climbed into the car, which turned out to be much bigger and more comfortable than it had appeared at first glance and Mr. Hagrid, or Hagrid as he preferred to be called, told them all about magic and the magical community that had to be kept hidden from Muggles. Muggles were people who could not do magic and were therefore much better off thinking that it didn't exist.

"So our parents are witches and wizards, too?" Hermione asked. "And why do they have a secondary institute for us, but put us with Muggle children until then? What if somebody there sees a child perform accidental magic and gets suspicious?"

"Well, usually the students we get from Muggle institutes are Muggle-born. That means that they have Muggles for parents. But you might not be. There's no telling really, unless I'd open the sealed binders and I'm not supposed to do that. It's not my business to know that, you see. I'm just the groundskeeper and keeper of the keys."

"So there is a magical primary institute?" Hermione demanded.

She really was a very forward girl, Harry thought. And clever! He had no idea how she came to all those conclusions.

"Oh yes, of course there is," Hagrid confirmed.

"So why would we not have gone there, if we weren't Muggle-born?"

"Well, you see, just ten years ago now, when you were babies, You-Know-Who attacked the Magical Nursery Institute and actually tried to kill our Harry here. The curse rebounded and killed You-Know-Who himself, but many of his followers are still about and never got caught. A lot of people thought they might attack the institute again. To get revenge, you know. So some of them preferred to hide their children among Muggles. You'll be told when you're sixteen. Then you'll know, if it's really that important to you. Myself, I don't see what difference it makes whether your parents were wizards or Muggles. It's all up to you to decide what kind of a person you want to be. And it's not all that important whether you're a wizard or a Muggle yourself either. There are really good Muggles and really bad wizards. Just look at You-Know-Who."

"But I don't know who!" Hermione exclaimed and with a lot of difficulty, because he was scared of saying his actual name, Hagrid managed to tell them the story of the evil wizard Voldemort who had plotted to overthrow the Ministry of Magic with dark magic and murdered many, many people.

'Like my parents' Harry thought, but he didn't want to talk about that and said nothing. It was much easier to just let Hermione ask all her smart questions and listen to the answers.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Dragging all three children to the bank to go to Harry's vault and get the stone? I think not. - Also: It's not Harry's birthday and Hagrid can't just buy him a gift and not the other two, so what to do about Hedwig?

Harry No. 5 and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 5: Diagon Alley

The hovercar stopped in front of a shabby looking pub, that their teachers at the primary institute would probably have kept them far away from.

"That can't be Hogwarts institute, can it?" Justin asked Harry.

It was Hagrid that answered him, though.

"Oh no," he said. "That's the Leaky Cauldron. A famous place. Before you go to Hogwarts you have to have wands, you see. And you have to try those out yourselves. Not every wand fits every wizard. Besides you each got some money from your parents as a transfer gift, so we'd best visit a few shops where you can buy yourselves something nice for it."

He handed each of them a strange leather pouch and explained that there were 'galleons', 'sickles' and 'knuts' inside.

"I had some business at Gringotts for Dumbledore this morning, so I went and exchanged your money for you while I was there anyway. Don't spend it all right away, though," he warned them. "Let's have a look at the shops first and afterwards you can decide what you liked best and we'll go back for it."

"I got money, too?" Harry asked surprised when Hagrid handed him his pouch.

"But of course." Hagrid sounded slightly puzzled by the question.

"But who sent it?"

"Why your parents of course."

And then Harry realised that Hagrid probably didn't know that he knew that his parents were dead. He wasn't supposed to be told anything about them before he was 16 after all. But where had this money come from? And what about the birthday and Christmas gifts he'd received every year? Did the institutes buy those for orphans like him so they'd have as much as everybody else?

Harry puzzled over that question all the way through the Leaky Cauldron, into Diagon Alley and to 'Olivanders' which Hagrid claimed to be the very best wand-shop in all of England.

Only when he was sitting on a stool in the dusty little shop watching Hermione try out one wand after the other did it finally come to him: The gifts and money must have been from his aunt and uncle, of course! He would have to thank them when he was 16.

Picking out a wand didn't seem to be very difficult as there always was a clear signal when you waved the right one, but it took a very long time, especially for Harry who had to try almost every wand in the shop before a holly and phoenix feather one finally chose him.

At first Harry was overjoyed, but then Mr. Olivander told them that it was the brother of Voldemort's wand.

"But he's a murderer," Harry said disappointedly.

"He certainly has abused his wand terribly," Mr. Olivander agreed. "But that doesn't mean that there is anything wrong with the wand itself, or the phoenix that donated the feathers for both wands. It is You-Know-Who that made the decision to kill not the wand he used."

Harry was not quite sure he understood what Mr. Olivander meant, but luckily Hagrid explained it better.

"It was a different wand," he said. "This wand has never done nothing bad, and in your hands I'm sure it never will."

That helped, though Harry still wished he could have had one that had nothing at all to do with Voldemort.

Next they went to Florean Fortescue's ice-cream parlour to strengthen themselves.

"Ah, new Muggle-borns?" Mr. Fortescue said and gave each of them an extra scoop to welcome them 'home' to the wizarding world.

They saw two other groups of white-clothed transferees walk past while they ate their ice-creams and shouted and waved at them, but neither group came over to talk with them.

"Can't get the groups mixed up, or someone might get lost," Hagrid explained. "You'll get to met them on the bus later."

Next Hagrid took them to a sports equipment shop that sold brooms of all things, an apothecary that was full of disgusting things that Harry certainly wouldn't buy, a bookshop full of actual, real, paper books that delighted Hermione and finally a pet shop where they discovered that they could bring a real, living animal with them to the institute!

"A toad, a cat or an owl," Hagrid explained. "I suggest you get owls, though. They carry mail, you see. Toads are boring and cats ... well, a lot of children like cats a lot, but they aren't at all useful."

Harry took that advice to heart and bought a beautiful white owl, but Justin didn't like the look of the owls' beaks and claws and after he found out that cats had claws, too, he decided that he'd rather buy a big stash of sweets than an animal.

Harry, too, wanted to get some sweets for the little money he had left, but Hermione insisted on returning to the bookshop so she could buy some books.

"I just have to have 'Hogwarts, a History' and 'History of the Magical World'," she declared and was very disappointed that she didn't have enough money for a third book.

"There's a big library at Hogwarts," Hagrid assured her, but Hermione wanted to own the books anyway.

"I just had to leave behind all the books in the primary institute's library," she said. "I don't want to lose these as well in a few years."

Harry didn't understand her. They'd be at Hogwarts Institute for at east five, more likely seven years. That was an eternity, after all.

"Well, then," Hagrid announced when Hermione had finally paid for her books. "We've got just enough time left for that trip to the sweets shop before we have to run to the bus."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Hold on! Draco wasn't raised by Lucius, so why would he have anything against Muggle borns?

Harry No. 5 and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 6: The Journey from Platform Nine and Three Quarters

Their hovercar took them to a decrepit old building that the city planners had apparently forgotten to pull down when it had stopped being productive.

"This is King's Cross Station," Hagrid explained as he unloaded their luggage. "It was a really important railway station in its day and it is still traditional for Hogwarts students to depart here when they go to the school."

"What's railway?" Justin asked looking around the empty, decaying hall in fascinated disgust.

"Train," Hermione explained. "You know, like Thomas the tank engine. It was the first forerunner of hovercars, even before the cars that needed drivers."

"Oh!" exclaimed Justin.

"Hermione is smart." stated Harry.

"Oh yes," Hagrid agreed. "I bet she'll do really great at Hogwarts, our Hermione."

Hermione beamed with pride at so much praise. At the primary institute the adults would have frowned and said that, why yes, Hermione was a smart little girl, but it wasn't really important how smart one was and much more that one was diligent and productive and that it was very unbecoming of a mere child to be proud of one of their tiny achievements.

But then Hagrid probably assumed that Hermione was diligent and productive as well as smart and had been raised better than to get too full of herself.

"Let's see now," Hagrid murmured. "Where was it again? Ah yes, there: See that wall between platform nine and that platform where it says 0 because the 1 fell off? That's the entrance to platform nine and three quarters. Our bus is waiting there."

"Oh," said Harry. The wall looked very solid. "How do we get there?"

"We just walk through," Hagrid announced and led the way.

The children looked at each other nervously and Harry hastily grabbed a hold of Hagrid's huge furry coat and closed his eyes before they hit the wall. There was no collision. They simply kept moving and suddenly Harry heard the familiar sounds of many children nearby.

He opened his eyes and found that he was on a strange bit of ... road he assumed as there was a sleek red bus with the inscription 'Hogwarts Express' parked in the middle of it.

Several other adults approached Hagrid to ask whether all had gone well and cast curious glances at Harry. One of them, a stern looking old woman, collected binders from Hagrid and the others and asked where he had left the car while a tiny old man offered to assist them with their luggage. He waved his wand and the suitcases lifted off the luggage trolley and flew to the bus' luggage compartment, which opened just as miraculously to let them inside.

"Wow! Thank you!" Harry exclaimed.

"Will we learn how to do that, too?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"Why yes of course, eventually," the tiny man replied. "But we'll start with something easier. The first thing I'll teach you to do is to levitate a feather."

"To what?" Harry asked.

"Make it fly," the man explained. "That's pretty hard at first, but once you get the hang of it, it will be much easier to make other things fly."

"Like suitcases!" Justin exclaimed.

"Yes, like suitcases," the man confirmed.

And then he wished them a good journey and disappeared with a pop. Harry, Justin and Hermione stared.

"Well then," said Hagrid. "Get aboard and pick out your beds. We're leaving as soon as I've got everybody settled."

Beds? Yes indeed, instead of one floor of rows of seats, the Hogwarts Express had three floors of rows of beds.

The lower two were both full, but in the back of the last floor they finally found three unoccupied beds next to each other and made themselves comfortable.

Soon afterwards the bus began to hover and move out of the station.

For a while they just watched the landscape move by and wondered what Hogwarts would be like. Of course Harry and Justin were going to be dorm mates having come from the same primary institute, but would Hermione's dorm be very far away?

After a while four boys who were wearing white dresses instead of shirts and trousers approached them.

"There are four houses," one with red hair told them.

"And we get sorted into them," another whose hair was so blond it looked almost white added.

"But we don't know how," said the tallest one.

"The nurses said it isn't at all dangerous and doesn't hurt a bit, though," the blond one assured them and then added. "I'm Draco. He's Ron and he's Gregory and he's Vincent. We're from the Magical Primary Institute, so we know."

"Hi, I'm Harry," said Harry. "And she's Hermione, and he's Justin. We're from South-East England Primary Institute."

"You're Harry?" Ron asked excitedly. "That Harry? Do you really have a scar?"

Harry showed them the lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead that Hagrid had recognised him by, and they admired it a lot. Then they settled down on the foot ends of Harry's and Justin's beds and told them all they knew and imagined about the houses.

When they got hungry Justin got out his sweets and handed them around and later Hermione found the names of the houses in Hogwarts a History and told them that they were those of the four founders of the school.

"Excuse me, have you seen a toad?" a boy none of them had ever seen before asked.

"No," they all said shaking their heads.

"What's your name?" Draco added, but the boy had already moved on.

"He probably only just bought his toad," Hermione said when Draco seemed to feel insulted. "I hope he finds him soon."

Meanwhile it had grown dark outside and they soon stopped, but by a lake rather than in front of the large modern institute building that Harry had expected.

Hagrid directed them into boats and the boy who'd been looking for his toad earlier joined Harry, Justin and Hermione in theirs, now happily clutching his toad.

"I'm Neville," he told them. "And I'm from North London Primary Institute."

"Look," Hagrid shouted for all to hear. "There is Hogwarts!"

Harry gasped. Hogwarts Secondary Institute was in a Medieval castle! He'd never seen anything so magnificent before.

Soon they had crossed the lake and Hagrid led them up to the impressive building. He knocked on the door and it was opened by the same old woman they'd seen at Kings Cross Station earlier that day.

"The first years, Professor McGonagall."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Hm ... can't sort the children in alphabetic order of last names, if they don't know their last names, right?

Harry No. 5 and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 7: The Sorting Hat

Professor McGonagall led them to two doors in front of which stacks of neatly folded black cloth were waiting on two desks.

"Boys' robes are on the left, girls' on the right," she announced. "Your robe is marked with your name and number. Once you've found it, go through the door next to the desk and change. Leave your white transfer clothes in the changing rooms. They will be collected by the house elves."

"House elves?" Harry asked, but nobody was listening to him.

They were all too busy digging through the stacks of clothing and so Harry shrugged it off and followed the others to the desk.

The robes were very strange and Harry and Justin would not have managed to put them on, if it hadn't been for Ron and Draco who'd worn robes all their lives.

"There," Draco said pulling Harry's robe straight. "Now it looks right."

"Thank you," Harry replied. "Sorry we are so much trouble."

"It's nothing," Draco assured him. "We always have to do it for Vincent and Gregory, too."

"We're clumsy," Gregory explained.

"What do we do now?" somebody asked.

"I don't know," said another boy. "The nurse didn't say."

"She's a Professor," Draco corrected him. "Professor McGonagall, that half-giant man said."

"He's Hagrid," Harry explained. "He's the groundskeeper."

They stood around and looked at each other, but nobody seemed to be able to guess what they were expected to do now.

"I'll go ask," Ron offered finally.

He left the changing room, but threw the door open again only a moment later and shouted: "Come out again! We're supposed to come out!"

They did and found the girls already standing in a neat two by two line. Harry was just about to join them with Justin by his side when he realised that they'd made a terrible oversight!

"We forgot to fold our clothes!" he exclaimed and was about to rush back into the changing room when Professor McGonagall caught him by the arm and pushed him back into the line.

"You don't have to," she announced sternly. "The house elves will do it for you. Now follow me to the sorting ceremony."

She led them to yet another door, opened it for them and then counted heads as they passed her.

They ended up on a podium in a large hall in which other children sat at four long tables and a number of adults at a shorter table in the back of the podium. Harry looked around incredulously.

"Where is the rest of them?" he asked Justin who only shrugged.

"Rest of what?" Draco asked.

"Of the students, of the nurses, of the teachers," Harry explained.

"There are no nurses," Ron said. "We're big now and don't need them anymore."

"You're used to even more students?" Draco asked sounding very impressed.

"This is the most people I've ever seen in one place," Vincent agreed.

"Our primary institute had lots and lots more," Harry told them, but then Professor McGonagall called them to order and placed an old hat and a stool in front of them.

The hat sang a song and announced that it would sort them into their houses now.

"Smart hat," Justin remarked, but Harry wasn't listening.

Did this mean that he and Justin weren't going to be dorm mates after all?

"Anthony number 1!" McGonagall called and a nervous boy shouted "Here!"

"Don't reply when I call you," McGonagall said. "Come and sit on this stool."

Anthony did so and Professor McGonagall put the smart hat on his head. Then they all waited for a while until the hat shouted "Ravenclaw!".

"That is the Ravenclaw table," Professor McGonagall said pointing it out to Anthony. "Go and sit there."

He did and she called for "Blaise!" who was apparently numberless and was sorted into Slytherin.

Next came a girl called Daphne and a boy called Dean and then it was Draco's turn. He too was sorted into Slytherin and Harry and his friends applauded loudly to congratulate him.

The next boy "Earnie number three" became the first Hufflepuff and then Gregory followed Draco into Slytherin.

Harry's own turn came after a girl called Hannah. He walked up to the stool a little nervously, because so many people were looking at him and whispering excitedly, but the hat soon fell over his eyes and he couldn't see them anymore. That was more comfortable.

'Hummm ... difficult' a voice in his head said. 'Now which house to put you in?'

"Please, Mr. Hat," said Harry. "What house were my parents in?"

He'd been wondering that ever since he'd first heard of the houses.

'Ah, you know they are wizards then? Ah yes, I see. My condolences, I didn't know they were dead. You want to go into your parents' house then?'

"Oh yes!" Harry shouted and heard people laughing outside the hat.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat announced and Professor McGonagall took it off and pointed to the table where the boy that had been sorted right before Draco was sitting.

Harry went and sat next to him.

"Hi, I'm Harry," he introduced himself.

"Hi Harry, I'm Dean."

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat bellowed again and a moment later Hermione joined them.

"This institute is much smaller than I expected," she told them. "But I suppose there aren't that many wizards, so it has to be small."

Justin unfortunately was sorted into Hufflepuff, but waved goodbye to them happily as he walked to his table and they were joined by a Lavender instead. Neville, the boy with the pet toad also became a Gryffindor and a little later Ron, whose name actually seemed to be Ronald, joined them as well. He wasn't happy to be separated from his old friends, but cheered up when Harry promised to be his new best friend and admitted that he knew Lavender and Seamus, another new housemate, as well.

When everybody had been sorted Professor McGonagall took the hat away and the headmaster said a few words. Food appeared suddenly out of nowhere. Harry ate his fill and then looked at the head table wondering which one would be his new teacher.

They looked very strange in their robes and one was even wearing a turban! The teacher all in black that the turban-man was talking to looked up suddenly and when their eyes met there was a flash of intense pain in Harry's scar, but it went away as quickly as it had come and Harry decided that he didn't need to report in sick and ask for a painkiller.

An older boy who introduced himself as Percival number 2 and was something called a prefect, which appeared to be a very important office, led them through a labyrinth of stairs and corridors to a place called Gryffindor tower where their dorms were.

Harry had a very bad dream that night, but couldn't remember it in the morning.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry didn't see Hagrid get the Philosopher's stone from Gringotts, so it's high time to introduce it.

Harry No. 5 and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 8: The Potions Master

Impressive as the castle was it was also very difficult to find one's way through. Harry and the other first years kept getting lost and being late for their classes.

One day when Harry and Ron had been sure they were trying to enter their Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, the caretaker Mr Filch suddenly swooped down on them saying that they'd been caught trying to enter a forbidden corridor and making horrible threats. Harry was shaking all over from fear when luckily Professor Quirrel, the teacher with the turban, arrived and rescued them.

"Didn't you know, though? Professor Dumbledore warned everybody at the feast," he told them kindly. "This place is very dangerous, and my classroom wouldn't be locked during a lesson."

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"The headmaster," Ron recognised the name and nodded. "He said so much, though. And we were so sure it was the classroom."

"We got lost," Harry said.

It was all too complicated. Unlike in the primary institute every subject was taught in a different classroom and by a different teacher and the classrooms weren't all next to each other either.

One teacher, Professor Binns, was a ghost, but unfortunately that was the most interesting thing about both him and his subject History of Magic. Hermione was the only one who managed to stay properly attentive and productive during his lessons. The best Harry could do was not to fall asleep.

The little man who had promised to teach them how to make suitcases fly into luggage compartments was Professor Flittwick. Harry liked him a lot, but so far all they had learned from him were the names of different wand movements.

Professor McGonagall was the head of house Gryffindor, which from what Hermione had told them meant that she took over the duties of head nurse for their dorm. She taught Transfigurations, where she had shown them that she could turn her desk into a pig. This had however been no help at all when Harry had been supposed to turn a matchstick into a needle. Magic was very difficult.

And then of course there was Professor Quirrel's subject, which was a lot less exciting than it sounded. They mostly read the textbooks that Quirrel had handed out and tried to ignore the strong garlic smell that came off his turban.

"Th... th... that wards off v... v... vampires," Quirrel had explained.

According to Professor McGonagall there were no vampires anywhere near Hogwarts, though, and she had confiscated all the garlic some older Gryffindors had brought back after raiding the kitchens.

Friday morning Harry's owl, whom he'd named Hedwig after a witch in the History of Magic textbook, flew into the great hall at breakfast and brought Harry a postcard and a small roll of parchment.

"Thank you, Hedwig," Harry said politely and turned over the postcard first.

'Hi Harry!  
Smeltings Institute is very nice. It is a eally old school from back when children lived with their parents during the summer!  
Hope Hogwarts Institute is nice, too.  
And hope you are well!  
Your Dudley number ONE! and Pierce number 3'

"That's nice," Harry said.

"What is?" Ron asked.

"Dudley and Pierce like it at their secondary institute. And Dudley is number one. He always wanted to be."

"I don't care," Ron stated. "I don't know them. What's the other letter?"

"You guys from the Magical Primary Institute are really rude, you know," Hermione complained.

It was true. Draco had even told them that he wasn't their friend anymore, because he was a Slytherin and they were Gryffindors.

"Slytherin and Gryffindor are enemies," he'd said. "It's tradition."

"It's from Hagrid," Harry discovered. "He says I should come to tea today."

"That's nice," Hermione said. "He wants to check up on how you're doing."

Ron frowned. "I'm going too."

"You can't!" Hermione protested. "You're not invited!"

"I don't care. Harry is my best friend. Not Hagrid's. Not that Dudley's. Mine."

Harry hoped Hagrid wouldn't be too angry.

First however they had to go to the dungeons for two hours of Potions with the Slytherins.

The Potions teacher was the one all in black that Quirrel had been talking with at the welcoming feast. His name was Professor Snape and he was the head of Slytherin house.

And he was also very scary and demanding Harry soon learned. For some reason he seemed to hate Harry and blamed him for everything anyone in the class did wrong. But he kept calling him James!

"I'm Harry," Harry kept telling him. "Harry number 5."

And then Professor Snape would repeat whatever he'd just said and say Harry this time, but the next time he spoke to him he'd say James again.

Professor Dumbledore came in just as the class was leaving and Harry heard him ask Professor Snape: "So what do you think of him?" in a casual tone.

"The boy is an idiot, Albus."

Harry was shocked. No teacher at the primary institute would ever have used such a bad word and definitely never to describe a student. Whoever they were talking about surely didn't deserve to be called that.

"It's hospitalism, Severus," the headmaster said in a very sad tone. "This institutional upbringing just isn't doing the children any good."

What nonsense! And that from a headmaster!

Hagrid luckily didn't seem angry about Ron coming along at all. He said it was good to see that Harry was already making new friends and gave them tea and rock cakes which, unfortunately, were much too hard to eat.

Another unfortunate thing was that Hagrid had a large dog that scared both boys. Neither of their primary institutes had allowed dogs, so even Ron who had some experience with cats, owls and toads had never met one before.

"Dogs are completely harmless, really," Hagrid assured them. "Especially Fang. He's a big coward to be honest. Now Fluffy, Fluffy can get a little angry at times, but then you just play him some music and he'll go straight to sleep."

"Fluffy?" Ron asked nervously and glanced around the tiny one room hut as if he expected to suddenly find a second huge dog in some corner.

"Fluffy's my three-headed dog," Hagrid said proudly. "I got him as a puppy from some Greek fellow."

"Three heads!" Harry yelped.

That was one to bite each of them!

"Yes, but no need to worry. Fluffy's not here. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the stone," Hagrid assured them.

"What stone?" Harry was confused. Stones didn't run away after all, so why would they need guarding?

"The one I got from Gringotts, and just in time, too. Someone broke into the bank and tried to steal it just a few hours after I got it away. So now it's here. Much safer this way. But don't you dare mention it! Nobody must know or the thief might overhear them talking and find out where it went. So ..." He put his finger to his lips and both boys nodded wide-eyed and eagerly.

It was quite exciting to have a secret, so of course the first thing they did when they returned to Gryffindor tower was to tell Hermione.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Hm ... Neville wasn't raised by his grandmother, so he isn't insecure enough to fall off his broom. Hence ...

Harry No. 5 and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 9: The Midnight Duel

They didn't see much of Draco, Gregory and Vincent except during Potions lessons, which made it easier for Ron not to think about his former best friends too much. One morning Neville brought news that would change that, however.

"We have Flying lessons today!" he announced at breakfast.

"Flying?" Harry asked. "But people can't fly ... can they?"

He had seen some things happen in the wizarding world that his Muggle teachers had told him were impossible, after all.

"Of course they can," Ron said. "Haven't you ever ridden a broom?"

He could hardly believe it when Harry told him he hadn't, even though Hermione, Neville and several others that had come from Muggle institutes confirmed that Muggles did not ride brooms.

"That was different anyway," Seamus said. "We rode toy brooms for children at the primary institute. They don't fly very high or fast. Now we're big and can ride real brooms."

So that afternoon they went out to a place called the Quidditch pitch and found ... the Slytherins waiting next to a long row of very old fashioned looking brooms of the sort Harry had only ever seen in picture books.

At first it seemed very strange to Harry, but once they finally took off and were allowed to fly a bit he was delighted and didn't want to come down again at all. Flying was great!

"Wheee!" Draco shot past him much faster than Professor Hooch had said they were allowed to go. "Catch me if you can!"

And Harry couldn't resist. He shot off after Draco even though he could vaguely hear Madam Hooch protesting and threatening below them. Soon the increased distance and the rushing of the wind in his ears swallowed the sound of the teacher's voice, though, and as he and Draco twisted, turned, swooped and dodged he forgot that she even existed. Never in his life had he felt this free and happy!

It wasn't until they finally landed after an exhilarating fast and low dive that he realised how much trouble they were in. Not only Professor Hooch was down here now, but Professor McGonagall was standing beside her with her mouth hanging open.

"I'm sorry," Harry said meekly, but Professor McGonagall didn't stop to listen. She took him by the ear and marched him off to the castle where she borrowed a much older student called Oliver number 3 from Professor Flittwick and led them into her office.

"Fire your seeker, Oliver, I've found you a better one."

And with those words Harry found himself signed up to play a game he'd never even heard of before.

At dinner Draco came over to their table.

"I know a secret," he announced.

"What secret?" Ron asked eagerly.

"A secret about Harry," Draco said. "I didn't think it was true, but now that I've seen him fly I've changed my mind."

"So what's that secret?" Harry asked.

If it was about him, he had a right to know, right?

"Oh no," Draco shook his head. "It's too easy, if I just tell you. You have to come to the library at midnight tonight. Then I'll tell you."

And so they snuck out of their dormitory that night: Harry and Ron who had insisted on coming along since it concerned his best friend. Harry wasn't sure whether he meant him or Draco by that and suddenly found himself wishing Malcolm were there with him instead.

"You're not really going!" Apparently Hermione had been waiting for them in the common room.

"Yes, I'm going," Harry stated. "Draco knows a secret about me."

"He probably won't even come," Hermione said. "He's a Slytherin. They're our enemies. He even told us that himself, Harry! Most likely he's told Filch and you'll be caught and then ..."

They never learned what would happen then, because that was the moment that Hermione realised that the secret door to Gryffindor tower had fallen shut behind them and the Fat Lady wasn't in her portrait to open it to let her back in.

"Now we all have to go." She complained all the way up to the library which was usually her favourite place in the whole institute. "And it's forbidden and ..."

Draco was there just as he'd promised he'd be. He beamed at them proudly when they entered.

"Come on!" and he led them to a shelf in the back which held an apparently endless collection of old yearbooks. "You know how Professor Snape always calls you James? Well, look at this!" he said triumphantly and threw open one of the yearbooks at a marked page.

Harry stared down at the book in amazement. That was him in that picture. It had to be. But he was sure he'd never worn such a strange red robe and where was his scar?

"It's the Gryffindor Quiddich team about 30 years ago," Draco explained. "Just when Professor Snape was a student himself. And this boy looks exactly like you and it says down here that he's James number 7."

Harry stared and stared at the picture.

"My father," he said finally. "That is my father."

"You can't know that," Hermione told him reasonably. "He looks a lot like you, but that can be a complete coincidence. You don't even know what institute your father went to and most of the time children don't look exactly like their parents. And even if he is related to you, he might just as well be an uncle or cousin or ..."

"No," Harry insisted. "He is my father. I know. The headmaster told me my parents went to Hogwarts institute and Voldemort killed them and ... and I told the hat to put me in the same house my parents were in. So my father was a Gryffindor. And here is a Gryffindor that looks just like me. That's my father. ... My father's name was James!"

"I wish I had thought to ask the hat about my parents," said Draco.

"Meow!" another voice intruded into their conversation.

"Run!" Hermione yelled and they pelted out of the library and down the corridor, but from the next corner they could hear Filch's voice calling out to his cat.

"This way!" Draco hissed at them and they ran up a staircase Harry didn't recognise, down another corridor, Filch's voice still coming after them.

"It's a dead end!" Ron gasped when the corridor suddenly ended at a closed door.

Draco pulled on the handle, but it didn't open. "It's locked!"

"Alohomora!" Hermione said and suddenly the door opened easily.

They pulled it shut again behind them just in time.

"Where did they go?" they heard Filch ask Mrs. Norris. "They can't have taken this corridor or they'd be here. That door is locked."

"He's leaving!" Harry announced excitedly. "We're safe."

But the others didn't reply.

He turned around and stared at a pair of fangs almost as high as his own head.

"Fluffy!"

Humming and sing-songing "good doggie, nice doggie" they retreated from the room and threw the door closed again. Then they ran all the way back to their common room.

Harry did not care a bit when Hermione told them Fluffy had been standing on a trapdoor. He went straight to bed.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Hm ... The troll incident, yes, but this Harry is used to turning to adults for help and this Hermione is already their friend. Let's see what happens ...

Harry No. 5 and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 10: Hallowe'en

Harry soon found out that he enjoyed Quidditch and since both Ron and Draco were quite enthusiastic about the sport it didn't take him all that long to learn the rules either.

At the end of October the wizarding world surprised him with a holiday he'd never heard of before and that Ron's enthusiastic description didn't make any more understandable: Halloween.

"It sounds Satanist to me," Hermione said disapprovingly on the way to Professor Flitwick's class. "But I suppose if the institute keeps it we must participate. And if all they actually do is give us a feast to eat."

"It's one of the best holidays ever!" Ron insisted.

"It celebrates death and the undead," Hermione snapped. "That can't be good."

All Harry understood was that they were to have a lot of delicious food tonight and for some reason his friends were arguing abut whether that was good or bad. He felt relieved when Professor Flitwick announced that they were finally ready to attempt floating their feathers. That distracted Ron and Hermione from the holiday, at least for the moment.

Soon however they were at it again.

"You are saying it wrong!" Harry heard Hermione nag.

"Well, then show me how it's done, if you know so much better," Ron challenged.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Hermione demonstrated and the feather rose into the air.

Harry applauded her which attracted Professor Flitwick's attention.

"Oh excellent, Hermione!" the little wizard exclaimed. "And so quickly. Very well done indeed. A point to Gryffindor."

"I hate her," Ron told Harry on the way out. "She makes us all look bad. I don't want to be friends with her anymore."

"She's smart," Harry tried to explain. "And she's from my primary institute."

"But this is your institute now!" Ron yelled. "Forget your stupid Muggle institute and stupid Muggle friends already. I'm your best friend and not Hermione. Everybody else hates her, so why don't you?"

"But Ron ..."

"I'll stop being your friend, if you don't stop being friends with Hermione!" Ron threatened and walked off.

"But Ron!" Harry called after him.

Ron ignored him.

What was he supposed to do now? He'd never been in such a predicament before. At the primary institute the nurses would have stepped in and taken Ron aside to remind him that his behaviour was not nice and everybody ought to be friends.

Harry cast an apologetic look at Hermione and then ran after Ron to try and explain just like the nurses would have. He caught up with his friend in the great hall, but the amazing and frightening sight of the decorations there confused him and then there was the delicious food and for the moment her forgot all about Hermione.

He only remembered when Lavender walked up to them.

"Hermione is crying in the toilet and doesn't want any of the feast. And it's her very first Halloween, too. Are you proud of yourself, Ron?" she asked.

"It really wasn't nice what you said," Harry added. "You should go and apologise."

Ron looked a little ashamed of himself, but insisted that she hadn't wanted to come to the feast anyway,so it was not his fault.

And then Professor Quirrel stumbled into the Great Hall gasping.

"Troll! In the! Dungeons!" was all he managed to say before he collapsed.

Soon the whole hall was in chaos. Percival the prefect called to them and said he'd lead them out, but this time Harry did not forget.

"Percival!" he called. "Percival! Hermione! She ..."

"Yes, yes," said Percival. "Just follow me. Gryffindor first years, follow me!"

"But Hermione!"

"He's not listening," Ron told Harry. "But we know where she is. We can fetch her."

They ran towards the girls' toilets, but Harry felt uneasy.

"What if Percival leaves before we get back? We'll be lost."

"The headmaster told him to take us to the common room. We know the way there," Ron countered. "Hermione! Hermione!"

Just before they reached the toilets they met somebody else, though.

"Professor Snape!" Harry exclaimed in relief, and then again in despair as it seemed that the professor hadn't heard them and was just going to climb on up to the second floor. "Professor Snape!"

"What are you doing here, James?" Snape demanded angrily.

"I'm Harry."

"What are you doing here, Harry?"

"Hermione's in the toilet," Harry pointed. "And there's a troll!"

Snape immediately turned around and headed for the toilet. "And why did you idiots run all the way here instead of telling a prefect, James?"

"I'm Harry."

"And why did you idiots ..."

"Percival wouldn't listen," Ron answered hastily. "Please save Hermione, Professor Snape!"

Snape muttered some words that Harry had never heard before. He wasn't sure whether they were a spell, curses or maybe just Latin.

Then the professor opened the toilet door even though he wasn't a girl and called for Hermione.

"Are you there, Hermione? Come out! There's a troll loose in the school and you are not safe here."

"I'm here. -sniff- Coming," they heard a very small voice call back, but just then something horrid came around a corner of the corridor.

It was tall and ugly and carried a huge club. Harry screamed.

"Get behind me," Snape ordered roughly and stepped between the boys and the troll.

While Harry and Ron huddled together against the wall outside the bathroom he pointed his wand at the troll and made a few fast movements with it. The troll fell over and ropes tied themselves around him.

"Oh wow!" Harry exclaimed.

"We'll learn how to do that in DADA someday," Ron told him excitedly.

Snape sneered at them.

"Some faraway day," he said, then pointed towards the main stairs. "Now get back to your commonroom. It is perfectly safe now and I do believe you ought to know the way by now so you don't need me to babysit you. I have to get to the stone."

Harry still didn't like Professor Snape, but he had to admit that he was very impressive.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Not a lot of changes here, except that Snape didn't get to the forbidden corridor in time and wasn't mauled by Fluffy. But we can't have Quirrel actually reach the stone ... but then Hagrid hasn't told him how to get past Fluffy, yet, so ...

Harry No. 5 and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 11: Quidditch

Poor Professor Quirrel had hurt his leg during the troll incident. Most students thought it had happened fighting the troll and were very impressed, but Hermione scoffed at the idea.

"That's nonsense, boys. He never fought the troll. It was Professor Snape that did and he never got hurt at all. We were there. We saw it happen."

They had to admit that that was true, but still ...

"Then how did he hurt his leg?" Harry asked.

"Maybe he fell on something?" Ron suggested. "When he fainted, I mean."

"He fainted?" Hermione said sounding amused.

"Yes, he ran into the Great Hall and told the headmaster about the troll and then he just fell over," Draco said. "It was amazing. He just fell over."

"What have you got there, James?" Snape's voice interrupted their conversation.

"I'm Harry."

"What have you got there, Harry?"

"Quidditch Through the Ages," Harry said holding up the book. "It's about Quidditch. Because there's a game tomorrow and I'm seeker."

"Library books must not be taken outside," Snape declared. "Hand it over, James!"

"I'm Harry."

"Hand it over, Harry!" And Snape walked away with the book Harry needed to prepare for his game.

"Why is he so mean?" Harry asked the empty air.

"Because he didn't get the stone?" Ron suggested. "We made him save Hermione and fight the troll, remember? And then he said he had to get to the stone. And we haven't heard that the stone has been stolen, so he didn't get there in time."

"But Snape is a teacher," Hermione pointed out. "He'd never steal from his institute."

"He just doesn't like Harry," Draco said. "Maybe James was mean to him or something."

"My father was not mean!"

"Then maybe it was a misunderstanding," Draco suggested diplomatically.

Harry had bigger things to worry about than Professor Snape's behaviour, though. Namely catching the snitch in his first Quidditch game!

And he'd have to do it without having finished Quiddich Through the Ages!

The game started out fine despite that disadvantage, though and flying was such great fun that he almost forgot about the little ball entirely. But suddenly his broom began to act very strangely. It jerked and twisted and turned and bucked until all Harry could do was cling to it and hope that it would stop soon.

It seemed to continue for ages, though, and then it stopped very abruptly. The broom hang lifelessly in the air and when Harry cautiously tried to give it a command it obeyed readily, but by then Harry wanted only one thing: to get back onto firm ground and shake out the aching muscles in his arms and legs.

He dove straight for the ground ignoring everything and everybody around him. On the way something somehow plopped into his mouth, but he kept going anyway until finally, finally, he flopped gracelessly onto his knees in the grass. Only then did he spit out the mysterious object. To his surprise he found that it was the snitch! He'd caught it after all!

"It really wasn't fair, though," Draco protested later when they were having tea at Hagrid's. "You caught it by accident. Dumbledore should not have awarded you the catch. There should be a rematch after they finish checking the broom."

"There's nothing wrong with the broom," Hermione insisted. "It was Professor Snape. He cursed it and it all stopped when I set him on fire."

"I feel rather bad for causing such chaos in the teachers' box, though," she added after a moment. "Poor Professor Quirrel hit his injured leg. That must have hurt a lot."

"Professor Snape would never do anything like that," Hagrid protested. "He may be a bit strict and dislike Gryffindor, but he'd never do a student any harm. Why would he ever want to do such a nasty thing?"

"He wants to steal the stone," Ron explained. "The one Fluffy is guarding. He told us so after he caught the troll. And now he's trying to kill us so we can't tell anyone."

"We must warn the headmaster!" Harry realised and nodded eagerly.

"Nonsense," Hagrid said. "Snape would never steal Nicholas Flamel's stone. He might try to make his own perhaps, but he'd never steal one. He's a Potions Master after all."

"I wish," Hermione said later as they were walking back to the castle. "I could remember who Nicholas Flamel is. I know I have read about him somewhere."

Unfortunately the boys could not help her with that question. None of them had read as much as she had and they were all sure that they'd never heard of him before.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: So, Hogwarts Christmas with everybody staying around, and do the changes affect what Harry sees in the mirror of Erised?

Harry No. 5 and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 12: The Mirror of Erised

December came with a lot more snow than Harry thought he'd ever seen in his life. The teachers arranged a sleigh ride down to the village for everybody, though you had to be at least 13 to be allowed to get off and go shopping for Christmas presents by yourself. There also was sledging on the grounds, though, and snowmen building and several delightful snowball-fights.

Hagrid carried several large trees into the Great Hall and the teachers decorated them with ornaments that simply flew right out of their wands. Harry managed to squeeze through the mass of students crowding around and watch Professor Flitwick up close, but he still couldn't tell exactly how it was done. Most likely it was very advanced magic.

Each dorm got its own smaller tree as well and the children hung their stockings next to it on Christmas eve.

"So is there really a Father Christmas after all?" Neville asked Ron when they went to bed.

"Of course not," Ron scoffed. "It's just the house elves. They get the gifts our parents and friends and the school give us and make them appear in the stockings just like they do with the food in the Great Hall."

"That's nice of them," Harry said with a yawn and soon after that he was fast asleep.

The next morning brought him a nice full stocking and two parcels under the tree. He smiled, reassured that his aunt and uncle could not be angry with him for choosing Hogwarts over Smeltings if they sent this many gifts.

The stocking held mostly candy, some of the wizarding kind and some Muggle that he assumed must have come from his old friends from the primary institute. He didn't get a lot of mail from them anymore, but he too had remembered to send them some chocolate that Hagrid had been nice enough to buy for him at a Muggle shop.

There also was a new computer game which was a little disappointing because there were no computers at Hogwarts. The teachers said that they wouldn't work with all the magic there. Of course his aunt and uncle couldn't have known, though. And there was a little wooden flute.

The fist parcel was much better, though. It held a stuffed dragon to cuddle and take to bed with him and a nice warm woollen scarf in Gryffindor colours. Harry was delighted with these gifts, but the second parcel beat all the rest. It contained a large silvery cloak made out of some strange material that felt almost like water and when Harry tried it on he disappeared.

"Oh wow, an invisibility cloak!" Ron exclaimed and all his dorm mates stared at him in wonder.

"They are really, really rare and really, really expensive," Seamus explained. "Your parents must be really, really rich!"

"But my parents are dead," Harry said. "You-Know-Who killed them when he attacked the nursery institute."

And he told his dormmates how and why his old headmaster had told him.

"And my aunt and uncle are Muggles. They must have sent the computer game and the stuffed dragon and scarf."

"I think the scarves are probably from the institute," Neville said. "Because we all got them and they are in our house colours. Our Muggle parents don't know those."

"But who sent Harry the invisibility cloak then?"

Nobody knew and Hermione even said it was suspicious and he'd better not wear it. So Harry packed it away for now and went down to the Great Hall to show off his new scarf, dragon and flute instead.

Draco was already there with a green and silver scarf, a huge box of candy and a brand new elegant looking chess set.

"Draco always gets the best sweets," Ron explained as they passed the box around.

"Yes, I think my parents must work at a sweets shop. They know all the best stuff and send so much of it. They must have a way to get it extra cheaply."

Then he set up the chess set and they spent many hours playing. Ron was an excellent player and beat all of them. Even Hermione!

Harry on the other hand lost every game, but he didn't mind. It wasn't important to be good at chess after all and it was very nice to see Ron and Draco enjoy themselves so very much.

That night however Harry couldn't sleep. The thought of the invisibility cloak and all the places he could go with it just wouldn't leave him alone.

He tried to remember Hermione's warning, but he couldn't think of anything bad the cloak might do to him and so in the end he gave in and put it on. For a while he just wandered though the corridors pretending to be a ghost and startling the sleepy portraits, but then he decided that he ought to go to some really forbidden place and when he happened past the library he went inside and into the restricted section. He picked out a book at random just to see what sort of story the teachers thought to be unfit for eleven year olds, but when he opened it the book started screaming horribly and he dropped it in fright and ran.

Not a moment too soon! He'd only just whisked out of the library door when Filch and Snape appeared at a full run. Harry turned and ran in the opposite direction until he finally felt he could run no more.

Clutching at a stitch in his side he stopped and gasped for breath but unfortunately he wasn't safe yet.

Quite suddenly Mrs Norris appeared in front of him and in this desperate situation Harry decided to try hiding instead of running. The door of an unused old classroom stood open not far from him and Harry ducked inside and closed the door behind him. It would keep the cat out in any case.

Nobody came and after a while Harry's heart stopped beating so fast and his side stopped hurting. His curiosity woke up again and he began to quietly explore the room. It was filled with old dusty furniture. Most of it consisted of the usual desks and chairs but there also was a very elaborately framed mirror that soon drew Harry's attention.

He stepped in front of it and saw ... Was that himself? He had Harry's scar in any case, but he looked much older and there were two adults next to him. The man was probably his father James. He looked like the boy in the picture Draco had found, just adult. Was the woman his mother, then?

And then, a little in the background, there were three more people, a very thin woman, a fat man and a young man that somehow reminded Harry of Dudley. But what could Dudley be doing in a mirror with Harry's dead parents?

Harry stared and stared until a sudden noise reminded him that he had to go back to bed. After all tomorrow was the only holiday left before classes started again.

He used that day to show the mirror to Ron, but for some strange reason Ron did not see dead people in it, nor was he any older there. He merely saw himself as he was surrounded by all his classmates who looked adoringly at him and had eyes for nobody else.

Harry wouldn't really have minded that, but Ron refused to share the mirror and he wanted another look at his parents. He hadn't looked at his mother enough, and while he could see his father in the picture in the library, his mother wasn't anywhere else he knew.

And so Harry returned that night once again wearing his cloak, but as he rushed to the mirror he was interrupted by an unexpected voice.

"Hello Harry. Back again?"

Harry shot around and froze in horror. It was the headmaster himself!

"So I see you have found the mirror of Erised," the old man stated calmly.

"I'm sorry," Harry exclaimed, but the headmaster didn't seem interested in that.

"And do you know what it does?"

"No Sir," Harry shook his head meekly.

"Well, what does it show you?"

"Dead people," Harry admitted dutifully.

"Dead people?" the headmaster echoed aghast.

Harry nodded. "And myself, and Dudley and two strangers."

"What dead people, Harry?" The headmaster seemed very agitated.

"My parents," Harry explained. "In the mirror they look all alive."

"Then why do you call them dead people, Harry?"

"Because they are dead. The headmaster told me."

"I do not remember telling you any such thing," Dumbledore said firmly.

"Not you, the other headmaster."

"What other headmaster?"

"The one of the primary institute," Harry explained patiently. "They died in the attack on the nursery institute. That means You-Know-Who killed them, doesn't it?"

The headmaster stared at him for a while, but then finally nodded.

"Yes, yes it does. Please forgive me. I do not think it wise to tell a child as young as you such a terrible thing and I did not expect anybody else to do so either."

Harry nodded.

"It is not nice to know. I would have liked to meet them when I'm old enough. But I have an aunt and uncle. I will ask to meet them."

Dumbledore nodded. "I am sure they will be delighted to meet such a fine young man."

Other teachers had always reminded him that his parents might choose not to meet him.

"And I think you should know what the mirror actually does," the headmaster continued. "It shows us our wishes, you see. You still wish that you could meet your parents when you are sixteen, so the mirror shows you that meeting. It is not good for people to spend so much time on impossible dreams, though," he continued. "I will have the mirror removed to free you from the temptation. Please don't look for it again."

Harry nodded obediently despite the desperate pain in his heart. He would never see his mother again. That one look would be all he'd ever get.

"I know," he said. "Dreams are bad. Don't dream, be productive."

"Oh now, I wouldn't go as far as that," the headmaster said once again turning everything Harry knew about adults, and especially teachers, upside down. "A little dreaming is quite healthy. It is just that they ought to be hopeful dreams. If for example a young seeker were to dream of helping his house win the Quidditch cup that would inspire him to train hard and improve his chances to actually do so. I call that a very productive dream. Dreaming of things that can never happen is not productive and will only make you unhappy. Do you understand that difference, Harry?"

"I ... think so."

It was very complicated, though. Maybe that was why nobody had tried to explain it to him when he was younger. Just avoiding all dreaming was so much easier than sorting the dreams into categories.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Draco's not likely to bully Neville for no reason, so Harry won't give him a chocolate frog. So how to make Harry read a chocolate frog card?

Harry No. 5 and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 13: Nicholas Flamel

And so Harry concentrated on his Quidditch training and homework and tried not to think about his parents anymore. For a while he was very hopeful that they would beat Hufflepuff in the next game and indeed win the Quidditch cup, but then one day Oliver informed the team that instead of Madam Hooch the Flying teacher Professor Snape would referee the match.

"But why?" asked Frederic one of the team's absolutely identical looking beaters. He and George also had the same birthday which was why they were convinced that they were twins. "He's never done that before."

"Because," said Oliver. "If we win against Hufflepuff, we will be ahead in the tournament and most likely win the cup. And Slytherin has had a winning streak of seven years. He wants to keep it going."

"He won't play fair?" Harry asked horrified.

"Honestly, Harry," said George. "How long have you been here now? Shouldn't you know by now that Snape is never fair to Gryffindors?"

So they had an unfair referee who wanted to kill him. Harry went up to the Gryffindor common room - the only place that he didn't keep running into Snape these days - and tried to console himself with a chocolate frog.

He glanced at the collectible card and blinked. The picture looked familiar. It was Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster!

Normally Harry didn't read his chocolate frog cards, but this was an actual real person that he'd spoken with himself! Maybe he ought to know a little more about him. Hermione kept telling them what a great wizard he was. So Harry read he card and ...

"Hermione! Hermione look! Nicholas Flamel!"

Hermione tore the card from his hand, read it and then ran up to her dorm and returned with a fat tome about Alchemy.

"Here it is!" she announced proudly. "Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone. That's a stone that can make you immortal and turn anything into gold. No wonder Snape wants it! Who wouldn't want to be rich and immortal?"

"It's better to be productive," Harry reminded her. "That makes one happy."

"So what's to stop him from using his immortality and gold to be productive?" Hermione asked. "He could do anything he wanted with it."

That was a convincing argument, but what could they do to stop him from stealing the stone?

Not knowing a solution to that problem Harry kept working hard on his Quidditch practise and it paid off. He managed to catch the snitch early in the game preventing Professor Snape from giving Hufflepuff too many undeserved points. And this time he hadn't caught the ball in his mouth either. Even Draco would have to admit that Gryffindor deserved this victory.

Harry was just carrying the broom he'd been riding back into the flying equipment shed when he noticed a dark shape sneak off into the forest. It looked an awful lot like Professor Snape!

Without giving it a second thought Harry jumped back onto the broom and followed him.

In the forest he found not only Professor Snape however! Professor Quirrel was with him now. Harry couldn't really figure out what they were talking about. Something to do with loyalty and debt?

Harry knew that loyalty was the love and pride one felt for the institute one was in, or the company one worked for and debt was something companies got into if their employees weren't productive enough or demanded higher salaries. And then soon the company would have to be closed and the employees would be unemployed and miserable.

But Snape and Quirrel worked for an institute and not a company. Institutes didn't get into debt.

Or did they?

Whatever it meant it scared poor Professor Quirrel a lot and that made Harry nervous as well. Of course Quirrel was scared of a lot of things, but they were all actually dangerous, weren't they?


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: No need for Draco to sneak up on them to see the dragon, but I do need to get all of them into the forest anyway ...

Chapter 14: Norbert, the Norwegian Ridgeback

"There are other kinds of debt, too," Hermione explained to them after Harry had told his story. "This sounds like Quirrel owes Snape for some favour Snape has done him. And what Snape wants in return is that Quirrel helps him steal the Philosopher's stone, but Quirrel knows that stealing is wrong, of course, and doesn't want to do it."

"He's scared, though," Ron said. "He'll give in."

But for the moment the stone still seemed to be there.

"He doesn't know how to get past Fluffy," Hermione theorised. "And there are probably spells guarding the stone, as well."

It was Easter by now and at Hermione's insistence they had started revising for their exams.

"We've been here half a year after all," she said. "Another six months and we'll be in second year."

"And no longer be the youngest," Draco added. "I can't wait!"

To their surprise they found Hagrid in the library one day and Hermione made use of the occasion to question him about the defences of the Philosopher's stone.

"Hush!" Hagrid shushed her. "Don't talk about that here. Come to tea at my hut where nobody can overhear us."

Even there he didn't really want to talk, though, and Hermione and Draco had to exert all their cleverness just to get him to tell the names of the people that had helped Dumbledore to protect the stone.

"Well, the heads of the houses, of course: Flitwick, Sprout, McGonagall and Snape, and Quirrel as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He's the expert after all. And then there's me with Fluffy."

It was awfully hot in Hagrid's hut, because he was hatching a dragon egg in his fireplace and those mustn't get cold.

"It's a Norwegian Ridgeback," Hagrid told them proudly. "I won him at cards."

"But that's illegal," Draco protested. "Hagrid, you could go to Azkaban for keeping a dragon!"

But Hagrid couldn't be convinced to extinguish the fire and let the poor little dragon die. He'd always wanted his own dragon.

At first Harry and his friends were fascinated, too. They all came to see him hatch and had a little ceremony when Hagrid decided to name him Norbert.

However they soon had to realise that there was a problem. Norbert grew rapidly and soon began to threaten to outgrow the little hut. He breathed fire and was getting more and more aggressive.

"It's not safe to keep a fire-breathing dragon in a wooden hut, Hagrid," Hermione said one day.

"And where else will you hide him when he no longer fits in there?" Draco asked. "People will notice the fire if you just leave him out in the forest."

"My hand's swelling up," Ron whined. "I think he's poisonous."

Harry looked worriedly at his friend. If Norbert's bite had indeed poisoned him, he'd need to go to the hospital wing and how would they explain that?

"I can't just abandon him somewhere," Hagrid explained. "He's just a baby. He'd die."

"Aren't there nursery institutes for dragons?" Harry asked.

"There are preserves, but not in England," Hagrid replied. "I think Charlie, the former Gryffindor Quidditch captain went all the way to Romania to work at one."

"Well, maybe he could take Norbert," Harry suggested, but they didn't have Charlie's address.

That evening Ron was feverish and Harry and Hermione escorted him to the hospital wing despite their misgivings.

"A dog bit him," Hermione told the nurse, Madame Pomfrey, who tutted and gave them a lecture about touching such filthy and dangerous things as animals.

"Especially strays. There's no telling where they might have been and what diseases they might carry. All dogs should be put down, really ..."

Harry and Hermione nodded and agreed with everything she said and finally left Ron in her capable hands.

"Oliver probably knew Charlie," Hermione said on the way back to Gryffindor tower. "He might know his address and you know Oliver."

And so after a very restless and worried night Harry approached his captain and confided Hagrid's secret in him.

"That's just so typical," Oliver laughed. "Hagrid is always in some kind of trouble over a monster. Alright, I'll owl Charlie Weasley. He'll have a good laugh over this."

Luckily Charlie was also willing to help and a few days later Harry, Hermione and Draco dragged a huge basket containing a heavy and annoyed baby dragon up the stairs of the astronomy tower at midnight. They had meant to use Harry's invisibility cloak, but unfortunately it couldn't cover all three of them and the basket and so they had to sneak very carefully.

Charlie Weasley had sent four adult wizards on brooms who had a good laugh at the basket and provisions Hagrid had provided for Norbert. They loaded the little dragon into a fire-proof crate instead and took off with him.

Very relieved the three students ran back down the stairs ... and straight into the arms of Argus Filch.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Ah, yes, Neville! How to include Neville now ...

Chapter 15: The Forbidden Forest

Professor McGonagall was furious. She'd already caught Neville who'd apparently overheard them talking and followed them out of curiosity to see the dragon.

"Oh Neville!" Hermione saved at least Hagrid by a quick lie. "Norbert the dragon is the stuffed toy Harry got for Christmas. That was just a game of make-believe."

"And the excursion onto the astronomy tower outside of class time?" McGonagall demanded sternly.

"A dare," Hermione lied again. "Draco challenged our Gryffindor bravery."

Unfortunately not even defending one's house's honour was a sufficient excuse for breaking school rules in the eyes of Professor McGonagall and they each lost their house fifty points and were assigned detention.

Harry soon discovered that the points by themselves were more than sufficient punishment. When they saw that they'd dropped to last place in the house cup overnight the other Gryffindors were so angry they didn't want anything more to do with the culprits. Ron and Oliver who knew the real story were the only ones who still spoke with Harry and Hermione. As for Neville who didn't share the extenuating circumstances of having helped Hagrid, he was left completely friendless which affected not only his spare time, but also his performance in class to the point that their teachers began to threaten him with failing the grade.

Draco at least had it a little easier. His house was angry about the lost points as well, but the Slytherins consoled themselves with the fact that Gryffindor had been much harder hit and they still had a chance to make up their losses, if they won the remaining Quidditch matches. Gryffindor stood no more chance at the cup.

"But we never win anyway," Oliver tried to comfort Harry. "Frederic and George alone lose us way too many points and for no better reason than to have a little fun. At least you can feel proud to know that you did it for Hagrid's sake. That was a very kind thing."

"Yeah," said Ron. "Maybe you should have been Hufflepuffs."

That didn't exactly raise their spirits.

"You know," Oliver made another attempt the next day. "It'll blow over soon. Frederic and George have been in similar disgrace over the cup many times, but do you see anyone avoiding them now?"

"Percival," Hermione replied instantly. "And he's a prefect."

"I think they're quite happy that way," Oliver pointed out. "They don't like Percival any better than he likes them."

Which was true. Hermione did like Percival, though, and Harry, too, frequently needed advice that he could have gotten from the prefect.

Such as an explanation why their detentions were to be in the middle of the night. As none of their prefects were talking to them, though, they turned up in the entrance hall in the evening with their school bags and were immediately sent back to their dorms to exchange them for their cloaks and boots. Only Draco had apparently been prepared to work outside.

"You're going into the forest," Mr. Filch informed them with glee.

"But it's forbidden," Harry protested.

This apparently wasn't true if it was for detention, though. At least they weren't going with Filch, after all, but with Hagrid and Fang. Hagrid assured them that they were perfectly safe as long as they remained on the paths and in the company of either him or his dog.

"We're looking for a wounded unicorn," he explained. "And whatever attacked her. That thing has to be very dangerous, though, so if you think you've found it, don't try to do anything about it, just send up red sparks to call me and I'll take care of it."

The only thing they found at first, though was a pair of centaurs called Ronan and Bane. Harry thought they were very frightening and stuck close to Hagrid, but Hagrid and Hermione exchanged a few words with them. All they learned was that Mars was very bright that night, though.

Harry thought that this might have been a lot of help if he'd had an Astronomy exam that night, but he didn't know how it was supposed to help them find the poor unicorn.

Red sparks from Neville and Draco gave them further cause for alarm. Apparently they had only been startled by a slithering sound in the bushes, though. Neville was shaking so badly, however, that Hagrid decided to keep him with him and send Harry to continue the search with Draco and Fang.

Nervously they followed the unfamiliar path with only the light of their own wands to guide them until finally Draco saw something.

"Look there, it's all silvery-white," he said pointing. "Do you think that's the unicorn?"

They walked closer to it and it did indeed have the shape of a horse, which Harry recognised from holo movies.

"It's beautiful," he said. "But why isn't it moving. Do you think it's dead?"

But before Draco could reply something else moved, something black that had been lying unnoticed in the darkness next to the unicorn, but now turned out to be a person in a black cloak. He - Harry was pretty sure it was a man - lifted his head and they could see the silvery unicorn blood dripping from his mouth.

Fang yelped, Draco screamed and they both turned and ran away, Draco shooting a veritable firework of red sparks all the way. Harry wanted to do the same, but he couldn't move. His scar was hurting again all of a sudden, much worse than ever before, and he couldn't think through the pain. All he could do was stare at the horrid scene before him.

The man stood up and came towards Harry, but before he reached him another centaur appeared and bowled the man over.

Perhaps he wasn't quite as terrible a monster as Harry had thought at first glance as he fled from the centaur who, though imposing, didn't look quite as terrifying.

The centaur, who introduced himself as Firenze, urged Harry to leave the forest as quickly as possible and even offered to carry him on his back, but Harry refused the offer. It was way too scary. He also tried to refuse to leave the path as Hagrid had told him not to, but Firenze pushed him along impatiently and after stumbling a few steps away from it Harry could no longer see it and had to rely on the centaur's guidance.

"What was that? Did that man kill the unicorn?" Harry asked once he'd calmed down a little.

"Most likely," Firenze answered. "Mars is bright tonight."

"But why? The unicorn was beautiful. Why did he kill her?"

"Do you know the properties of unicorn blood?"

Harry didn't even know what properties were.

"Unicorn blood can keep you alive even if nothing else can, but it is a terrible thing to kill a unicorn. You will be cursed forever and have only half a life ... unless of course you found something else that could restore you. Do you know what is hidden in the school right now?"

Harry did not, or at least he thought he didn't until the next morning when he told the whole story to Hermione and Ron.

"Oh, but of course we know, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "It's the Philosopher's stone. It can make the elixir of life, remember?"

Then she looked thoughtful for a while.

"But then it's not Snape that wants the stone - or not for himself. Snape is young and healthy. He'd want it for the gold, not the elixir. And he wouldn't be drinking unicorn blood either. No, Harry, ... Harry, I think that was Voldemort that you saw in the forest. He wasn't killed when he attacked the nursery institute, not completely, and now he's trying to come back. That's why your scar hurt when you looked at him. He's the one that gave it to you after all."


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Six best friends trying to rescue the Philosopher's stone. Why, it'll be easy, right?

Chapter 16: Through the Trapdoor

It was scary to think that You-Know-Who was alive - or at least half alive - and trying to get at the Philosopher's stone, but what could they do?

As Hermione pointed out they had to study. Exam time was approaching rapidly and soon the seventh years would leave the institute and the new batch of first years arrive.

"And we will be second years," Draco said proudly. "No longer the youngest."

If You-Know-Who didn't destroy the institute and kill them first.

"Only if we pass our exams," Hermione reminded him. "So tell me, Ron: What are the uses of dragon's blood?"

The actual exams turned out to be easier than Hermione's questions, though and after their last practical exam in Charms they were released onto the grounds with six days off until the leaving feast for the seventh years.

"And then the welcoming feast not long after that," Oliver promised them. "It's the best time of the year and as first years you get the longest holiday of all."

The older students still had their exams ahead of them.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Draco, Gregory and Vincent found themselves a nice shady place under a tree by the lake. Harry stretched out on his back and watched the clouds through the twigs. They formed nice, light patterns, not at all like the shadows in the forest, but something about them reminded him of the horrible scene with the dead unicorn anyway.

"We ought to tell the headmaster," he realised suddenly.

"Tell the headmaster what?" Vincent asked.

"About You-Know-Who and the stone," Harry explained. "Before You-Know-Who attacks the institute and ruins everything."

"Well, let's go then," said Draco, but it turned out to be easier said than done.

None of them knew where Professor Dumbledore's office was and when they asked Professor McGonagall she told them Professor Dumbledore wasn't even at the institute and sent them back outside.

"Oh, this is terrible," Hermione exclaimed. "If the headmaster is away, surely Snape and You-Know-Who will steal the stone tonight!"

"Then we have to stop them," Ron decided. "We'll be heroes."

Harry liked that idea a lot, even though he wasn't sure how one did that. For this they had Hermione, though. She told them to meet up outside the library that night. Harry was to bring his flute.

"We'll use that to play Fluffy to sleep," she explained. "Then we climb through the trapdoor and get the stone to safety before Snape comes."

That would be easy!

"And then we'll be heroes?" Harry asked.

"Yes, then we'll be heroes," Ron confirmed.

"And You-Know-Who can't attack us," Draco added.

Gregory and Vincent nodded eagerly. They didn't want to be attacked either.

However when they reached the room Fluffy was in, the door was already unlocked and there was a self-playing harp standing in one corner.

"Oh, Snape has already been here!" Hermione breathed.

"Then we have to follow him and stop him," Ron decided and on they went through the trapdoor.

They fell into something Hermione claimed was called devil's snare and that tried to crush them to death, but luckily Hermione also remembered that it was afraid of light and Draco cast a fire spell at it that made it let them go.

Next they came into a room in which lots of very aggressive little keys with colourful wings were flying around and which had a locked door on the other end.

They also found three brooms next to the door, and Hermione told Harry, Draco and Ron, who were the best flyers of the group, to get on the brooms and catch keys for her to try. Vincent and Gregory tore the wings off the captured keys so they didn't fly off again and eventually they caught a key that fit the lock and escaped into the next room.

"The devil's snare was Professor Sprout's contribution," Hermione said. "And the keys were probably Professor Flitwick's."

Harry didn't know how she knew that, but of course she was very smart.

"So whose is this?" Ron asked looking worriedly at the huge chessboard in front of them.

"It doesn't look like Quirrel in any case and I suppose Snape's will be Potions, so I guess this must be McGonagall."

That didn't help them win, though. Ron and Draco did their best but the game was a lot more difficult than one against another child and in the end Ron had to sacrifice himself to ensure their victory. They decided to send Gregory and Vincent back to help him to the hospital wing and alert the adults.

The next room held a positive surprise. A dead troll lay in it.

"But I don't understand," Hermione said as they crossed the room. "Snape captured the other troll. Why did he kill this one?"

She was soon distracted by a more urgent problem, though. The next room held a row of bottles and a logic puzzle.

"Oh," said Hermione. "Snape is really smart, too!"

It took them a very long time to work out the puzzle and then they discovered that there was only enough left of the potion for one of them.

They argued over who should be the one to go on, both Hermione and Draco saying that Harry wasn't smart enough, but Draco reminding Hermione that he'd been the one that had remembered the fire spell in Professor Sprout's room and consequently was better at keeping his head in a crisis. Hermione countered that he was a Slytherin and not brave enough.

"But he killed my parents!" Harry announced and finally the other two agreed to wait in the potions room and attack Snape should he come back with the stone. Harry walked through a wall of fire into the last room, but what he found there wasn't Professor Snape.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: And here it is, the last chapter. So, should I continue this for the Chamber of Secrets or just leave it at this? Harry doesn't go home for any holidays of course, so the beginning would have to be very different ...

And here it is, the last chapter. So, should I continue this for the Chamber of Secrets or just leave it at this? Harry doesn't go home for any holidays of course, so the beginning would have to be very different ... Harry No. 5 and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 17: The Man with Two Faces

"Professor Quirrel?" Harry asked.

"What the?" Professor Quirrel shot around.

"Professor Snape is working for You-Know-Who," Harry said. "We thought he was here to steal the stone."

Professor Quirrel laughed.

"Severus? Oh no, not him, I ..."

"Make use of the boy! Don't tell him!" another voice came from Quirrel even though his lips weren't moving.

This was spooky. Harry drew back, but Quirrel grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in front of a very familiar looking mirror. And yes, there they were again just like last time. He smiled, forgetting his fear over the joy of seeing them again.

"I see my parents," he reported dutifully when Quirrel asked. "There is my father and there is my mother. And I think that there between them is me. I'm sixteen and I'm meeting my parents. And they are all happy to meet me. And there is Dudley. He is sixteen, too. And he is talking to a woman and a man. I don't know who they are."

"Who the fuck is Dudley?" asked Professor Quirrel's normal voice.

"Don't think about being sixteen," yelled Professor Quirrel's other voice. "Forget about your parents! Think about the stone!"

"I don't care about the stone," said Harry honestly. "I care about my parents. You-Know-Who killed my parents and You-Know-Who wants the stone. I want to see my parents."

Quirrel pulled him away.

"You can see your parents when Lord Voldemort has the stone," he promised in his normal voice.

"I did not kill you parents," said Quirrel's other voice. "That is a lie."

It continued to speak, Harry thought, but he couldn't hear it over his own screams because he had just realised that somehow Quirrel was possessed by You-Know-Who and they were trying to trick him into stealing the stone for them. He screamed and struggled to get out of Quirrel's grip until finally Professor Dumbledore arrived and rescued him.

"Yes Harry, Voldemort has lost his body, you see," the headmaster explained later in the hospital wing where Madame Pomfrey had checked Harry for injuries. "And is now reduced to possessing others to be able to affect the world around him."

"Is Professor Quirrel really dead?" Harry asked a little frightenedly.

"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore confirmed. "But remember that he drank the unicorn blood for Voldemort. His life was cursed. It was probably the best for him to die. Death is not really so terrible a thing, Harry."

But Harry didn't really understand anything about death and he was very glad when Dumbledore left and he was allowed to see his friends. Ron had a bandage over his head, but assured him that he was fine and the others were all unharmed.

Later that day Hagrid came to see Ron and confessed to them that he had told Quirrel how to get past Fluffy.

"He must have been that mysterious masked man I got Norbert from," he explained sobbing. "Oh, if only I'd never gone to the pub for a drink!"

Harry and Hermione patted his shoulders and told him that they forgave him and were sure that it had been an honest mistake, but somehow it didn't work as well on Hagrid as it did when a nurse or teacher did it to a student.

A few days later at the leaving feast everything was decorated to celebrate Slytherin's victory in the house cup, but then the headmaster got up and awarded fifty points each to Harry Ron and Hermione for their bravery suddenly putting Gryffindor in the lead.

Dumbledore clapped his hands and the decorations changed to Gryffindor colours.

Harry was delighted and enjoyed the feast thoroughly. Only afterwards when he met up with his Slytherin friends to say good night and Gregory said: "But we went to protect the stone, too. Why didn't we get any points?" did he realise that perhaps it wasn't such a wonderful feast after all.

"He always favours the Gryffindors," Draco said bitterly. "He was one himself, you see."

"Never mind," said Harry. "At least we six all know Slytherins are awfully brave, too."


End file.
